


Nothing Either Good or Bad

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Series: Dean Winchester and Donna Hanscum [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: Donna goes hunting on her own.





	Nothing Either Good or Bad

 

There are places in the world that everyone knows are evil places, places where bad things happen, where good doesn’t exist. Dean believed that with every fiber of his being. One of those places was the Devil’s Gate in southern Wyoming. Maybe there were those in the world who believed that nothing was truly good or bad, that it was all perception, but he wasn’t one of them. He and Sam hadn’t been back to the Devil’s Gate in years, steering clear of it intentionally; too many bad memories, too many things best left in the past. As far as they were both concerned, they were never going back.

Never say never.

* * *

“You heard from Donna yet?” Sam asked.

Dean dropped his phone to the table and shook his head. “Nope. Not since she called three days ago. She said she was going to help a friend with something that sounded like it might be right up our alley. I offered to help her out, but she said no.”

“And you agreed?” Sam said.

“Not because I wanted to,” Dean snapped. “I offered to drive up to Minnesota to go with her, but she said no. And there’s no arguing with her when she sets her mind to something.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “She is pretty headstrong.”

“That’s an understatement,” Dean sighed. “But it’s not like her to not stay in touch. I’m starting to get worried.”

“Starting?” Sam murmured.

“Okay, so I hit worried two days ago,” he muttered. “I might be close to panicking at this point.”

“Where’d she go?” his brother asked. 

“That I don’t know,” Dean replied.

“Alright, then,” Sam said, “I guess we’re going to Minnesota to figure it out.”

* * *

“Devil’s Gate?” Dean grumbled. “She went to the Devil’s Gate in Wyoming?”

The brothers sat at Donna’s kitchen table, her piles of research spread out in front of them. Sam was rifling through the stacks of papers, stopping every now and then to read something.

“Looks like it,” Sam nodded. “She’s got some good information here, Dean. There’s been a lot of crazy storms in the area - which isn't uncommon - but it looks like maybe it’s been crazier than normal. There was also a bunch of deaths within a twenty mile radius of the Gate. Guy Wilson, the sheriff in the area, called her and asked for her help, said he’d heard that she was good with weird stuff.”

“Demon?” Dean asked.

“Maybe,” Sam shrugged. “Seems like the most logical explanation. We need to go to Wyoming, find Donna.”

* * *

Donna shifted, unable to get comfortable. Her ass was asleep, her stomach was churning, and her head was pounding. She glanced to the corner where Guy’s body was crumpled in a grotesque ball, legs and arms broken, neck twisted so his head was nearly facing backwards, blood dried in a thick trail from his mouth to his collarbone. She bit back the tears, trying to keep it together. She rested her head on her knees and tried to breathe.

Even though she was sitting in a locked building with a dead body, she was still loathe to admit that she’d made a mistake by not agreeing to let Dean come along and help. She was desperate to prove to him that she was able to do the hunting thing on her own, prove to him that she would be safe - his biggest worry. She felt like she was failing miserably. First the djinn, then Gabriel, and now this. She’d be lucky if Dean didn’t drag her to Kansas and lock her in the bunker.

She had to believe he would find her, that after not hearing from her for days he would do everything in his power to find her. Because if he didn’t, she’d be dead, just like the man in the corner of the room.

* * *

“Ten deals in ten days,” Crowley said, dropping a stack of papers on the table in front of the brothers. “Grigori is working overtime.”

“One of yours?” Sam asked.

“They’re all mine, Samantha” Crowley snapped, shaking his head. “Grigori has always been a bit of an overachiever.”

“You need to rein him in,” Dean demanded. “Now.”

“He’s just doing his job,” Crowley shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Dean muttered. “His job is to make deals, not kill innocent people with their souls intact. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” the King of Hell replied. “He hasn’t checked in. But I don’t think he’s the one committing your murders.”

“Then who do you think it is?” Sam asked.

“Raum,” Crowley answered. “He’s not interested in buying souls or making deals. He’s always been a bit more about the pillaging and plundering, death and blood and gore. More a follower of the Knights of Hell than interesting in populating Hell. He and Grigori, they aren’t...fond of each other. At all.”

“So, what? They’re one upping each other? Grigori makes a deal, Raum kills someone, back and forth, until what? They empty out the town?” Sam had his fists clenched, his eyes narrowed in anger.

Crowley only smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Have a nice day, boys.” Then he was gone.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled. He picked up the papers, glancing briefly at each one before dropping it to the table. He was nearly at the bottom of the stack when he stopped, picked up a couple of papers, and examined them closely.

“You got that list of the people who’ve been murdered?” he asked. 

Sam hit a couple of buttons on his laptop, then pushed it across the table to Dean. 

“What?” he asked his brother, watching as he scrolled through the list.

“Every one of the people who have been murdered had the same last name as someone who made a deal,” Dean replied, pushing the papers and the laptop back to Sam. “Raum is killing the family members of anyone Grigorio has made a deal with.”

Sam quickly looked over the list, comparing it to the papers now in his hand. “Dean, the last person that Grigorio made a deal with? Her last name is Wilson.”

“Like the sheriff? The one who called Donna?” 

“”Like the sheriff,” Sam nodded.

* * *

The cell phone landed at her feet, tossed there by the demon standing in the doorway. She looked at it, then the demon who’d introduced himself as Raum.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” she snapped.

“Call your boyfriend,” the demon grinned. “Tell him to come to the Devil’s Gate.”

“What?” Donna muttered.

“He’ll know what it is,” Raum smiled. “Let’s go, toots.”

Donna glared at the demon, but she picked up the phone - not hers - and dialed the number of one of Dean’s phones. It rang five times before he picked up.

“Agent Criss,” he answered.

“Dean?” she whispered.

“Donna,” he yelped. “Where are you?”

“Listen to me, Dean,” Donna said. “I’m supposed to tell you to come to the Devil’s Gate.”

“What? Who told you that?” Dean’s sounded nearly frantic. “Where the hell are you?”

“Raum, it was Raum -” The phone flew from her hand, hitting the wall and shattering to pieces. 

“Time’s up,” Raum growled.

The door slammed closed.

* * *

“Why the hell do they always want to meet at night? In the darkest places they can find?” Dean grumbled, slamming the Impala’s door hard enough to make her rattle. He looked around the cemetery, taking in as much as he could, looking for any hidden traps or tricks. “Which way’s the Gate?”

Sam glanced around, trying to get his bearings. He pointed north, tossed Dean the gun from the trunk, and tucked the other into the back of his pants. They set off across the cemetery, moving quickly.

They crested a small hill, passing several mausoleums, one of them with the door hanging open. As they came down the hill, Dean could see someone standing in front of it, arms crossed. He didn’t see Donna anywhere.

“Took you long enough,” the demon muttered as they approached. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“Where’s Donna?” Dean demanded.

Raum turned and stalked around the side of the building, returning with a tied up Donna in tow, dragging her behind him. He let her fall to the ground at his feet, ignoring her grunt of pain.

Dean made to move forward, but Sam grabbed his arm, stopping him. He could feel the muscles bunching and jumping beneath his hand and he knew that Dean was close to exploding. Sam squeezed, silently urging his brother to hold on just a little bit longer.

“Open the Gate,” Raum said.

“I’m sorry,” Dean laughed. “You’re joking, right? 

“I know you have the Colt, so open the Gate.” Raum kneeled down beside Donna and put his hand on her throat. “Open it or she dies.”

“Dean,” Sam warned under his breath, knowing that it was just a matter of seconds before Dean lost it.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was Donna. Donna. The one person in the world who he cared about as much as his brother. Fuck. This wasn’t happening.

“No,” he heard Donna say faintly. “I don’t know what the cuss is in there, but I know it can’t be good. I’m not worth it, Dean. Don’t do it.”

“Donna -” Dean shook his head. 

“I mean it, Dean,” she said. It was the voice she used when she didn’t want him to eat the cookie dough, or when he refused her help on a case. It was the voice she used when she meant business. 

“Open it, Winchester,” the demon said. “You have thirty seconds.”

Dean pulled the gun from inside his jacket, unconsciously spinning it in his hand. “Fine, let her go and I’ll open it.”

Raum sighed heavily and rose to his feet, pulling Donna with him. He shoved her, laughing as she stumbled, nearly falling. Dean crossed the distance between them, one arm sliding around her waist, shuffling backwards. He pushed her toward Sam.

“Get her out of here, Sam,” he ordered before turning and walking toward the Devil’s Gate, the gun in his hand. 

Sam held Donna back, trying and nearly failing to get her to stop struggling while he tried to undo the duct tape binding her hands. He finally pulled her close and whispered something in her ear, calming her long enough for him to pull a knife from his pocket to saw at the thick, gray tape. He kept throwing glances over his shoulder, watching his brother as he moved across the cemetery, waiting for the signal.

Dean was just steps away from the Gate, his back to Raum, when he suddenly turned and charged the demon, taking him out at the knees, both of them landing in the packed dirt beside a large headstone. The two wrestled for the gun, fighting for control, moving in a blur of flying fists and feet.

A gunshot rang out.

“Dean!” Donna screamed, yanking her hands free of Sam’s. She had only taken a couple of steps when Dean popped up, covered in dirt and blood. 

Sam pushed past Donna, sprinting towards his brother, pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Raum was attempting to rise to his feet, his face pale with shock. Sam stopped beside him, the gun pointed at his head. He gestured to the gun on the ground beside him.

“Decoy,” Sam said. “Filled with devil trapped bullets. 

He fired, an orange hole appearing in the center of the demon’s forehead, one lone trickle of blood dripping from it. And then he was gone.

Dean didn’t wait, he turned and sprinted toward Donna, rapidly closing the distance between them. He pulled her into his arms, his lips crashing into hers, kissing her until he couldn’t breathe.

“Goddamn it, I hate it when you do that,” he growled.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Donna mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, fully aware that he was angry with her. “I’m really, really sorry. I shouldn’t hunt on my own.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, gorgeous,” Dean shook his head. “I’m talking about you refusing to back down, about you being willing to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. It’s scares the shit out of me.”

Donna took a step back, shaking her head. “You’re joking, right?” she asked. “You? The man who is willing to sacrifice everything for the people you love? You’re telling me  **_I_ ** scared  **_you_ ** ?”

“Yeah, you scared me,” he chuckled. “And trust me, I know how ironic that sounds. But I don’t care. I can’t -” He cleared his throat. “I can’t lose you.”

Donna returned to the circle of his arms, her cheek resting on his chest. “Okay. I promise to try not to do it again. Is that good enough?” she said.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Dean sighed. “For now.”

 


End file.
